


Counterpunch

by cantfuckinbelievethis (orphan_account)



Series: One-shots [11]
Category: Shameless (US)
Genre: Debbie and Derek are only friends, Debbie never met Matty, Fighting, underground fighting
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-09
Updated: 2016-12-09
Packaged: 2018-09-07 10:58:22
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8798209
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/cantfuckinbelievethis
Summary: When her family is beginning to fall apart, Debbie's there to pick up the pieces - by any means possible.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I felt like writing something where Debbie's entire character didn't disintegrate because she started puberty

’ _Motherfucker_ ,’ Debbie hissed before spitting out the blood that was beginning to pool in her mouth.  
  
    She spun back to face her opponent, blocking her next strike before dropping down and sending a blow to her opponent’s stomach. The girl was winded and Debbie took the opportunity to throw a sucker punch in an upper cut to the girl’s jaw, sending her to the ground. After a few moments, the girl obviously could not go on and slapped her palm against the ring’s floor. Debbie went to sit back in her neutral corner and clicked her jaw back into place, wincing at the ache.  
  
    Derek leapt over the ropes, settling down on his knees next to Debbie.  They were the last match of the night so there was no hurry to get out of the ring. He began to tend to her injuries as the audience filed out of the warehouse. He was gently unwrapping Debbie’s hands when he clicked his tongue at her swollen knuckles.  
  
    ‘Not one word,’ Debbie warned, running a wrapped hand through her hair, pushing the loose red strands back into place.  
  
    ‘You can’t keep fighting bare-knuckled, Debs,’ Derek carried on despite her arguing. ‘It’s fucking up your hands; you need to fight somewhere else.’  
  
    ‘Nowhere else pays as good as here, and you know the rules as well as I do.’  
  
    Derek only nodded and continued to do his thing. Arguing never got him anywhere before, so there was no point now. When Debbie Gallagher decided she was going to do something, she did it. That’s how she got into underground fighting in the first place.  


* * *

  
It all started as a way to get some cash. Debbie was struggling to find a job and everything was falling apart at home. She had been out looking for a job when she came across the gym. She had gone in, intending to ask if they were hiring cleaners or anything, but she ended up spotting Derek from afar.  
  
    Of course she found him attractive, who wouldn’t? But as she stared at his harsh blows to the punching bag, she was thinking about something entirely different than his strong arms…Okay, she was thinking about something _as well_ as his arms — how much she enjoyed fighting.  
  
    Well, less so fighting and more like protecting herself. Ever since Mandy had taught her self-defence Milkovich-style, she’d found that she enjoyed the movements of the fight — throwing herself fists-first into chaos and coming out on top. She’d figured it was a Gallagher thing, but she wanted to channel it into fighting and not self-destruction like her siblings. So she’d approached Derek and asked if he knew of any way to make money doing what he was doing.  
  
    ‘There’s professional boxing, but, uh…’ Derek smirked slightly. ‘I don’t think that’s going to be something that’s gonna happen in the short amount of time you probably need.’  
  
    Debbie smiled sweetly, deciding she needed to play this a certain way. ‘Well, is there anything else? Maybe some…underground things you could suggest?’  
  
    Derek did not appear to be impressed by her obvious play and just said, ‘Yeah, there’s Tommy Salerno’s ring down in West Englewood, but it’s pretty exclusive and he only wants the best fighters.’  
  
    Debbie scowled. ‘And you don’t think I’m good enough?!’  
  
    ‘Well, no offence, but no.’ Derek scoffed. ‘Look at your arms, girl. They’re all loose and not toned at all.’  
  
    ‘Fuck you!’ Debbie cried out. ‘I’m a good fighter! I’ve had to fight off lots of perverts in my time — I’ve got strength and-and stamina!’  
  
    Derek only chuckled. ‘Calm down, girl. You can have all those things and Tommy will still not let you in. You’ve got to _know_ boxing to make it through the fight, even when you’re knocked to the ground more times than you can count. It’s not rounds in Tommy’s fights — it’s to the death or until someone gives. And, usually, if you give, you’re done, girl.’  
  
    ‘ _Debbie_ ,’ Debbie snapped, getting annoyed at his negativity. ‘My name is Debbie.’  
  
    ‘Derek.’ He extended his hand and she hesitantly took it. ‘Look…if you really want in to Tommy’s matches, I can train you in the proper boxing techniques. I won’t even bill you or nothin’.’  
  
    Debbie bit her lip, deliberating if she really wanted to go down this path. Sure, they were slowly running out of money, and Fiona was always with her husband, and Lip was always at college, and Ian was always at Mickey’s, but was this really what she wanted? She could remember Lip doing underground fighting once, and he was in fucking college. Thinking about Liam this morning, asking for breakfast, and Debbie realising they had absolutely nothing in the fridge, she nodded.  
  
    ‘Alright,’ she’d agreed. ‘Teach me.’  


* * *

  
By the time she had been ready to fight, the only issue had been getting into the matches without her family noticing, but as shit went down with Carl getting out of Juvie, Ian barely being around, Fiona being distracted with her relationship with her weird boss, and Lip just fucking around and getting tanked most nights, it turned out not to be too difficult.  
  
    Luckily Derek knew Tommy and was able to get Debbie in to see a match or two to make sure she knew what she was getting into. Apparently trying to back out of it would cost her an arm and a leg, figuratively if she had the money and literally if she didn’t — which she didn’t.  
  
    Derek took her to one of the fights under the guise of a date since Lip was home and she didn’t want him getting suspicious. He sent them off with a thinly-veiled threatening glare in Derek’s direction. She almost wanted to tell him that he had nothing to worry about with Derek; they were only friends and that’s all they’d ever be. At first, she had gotten a crush and had gotten annoyed at this, but then she ended up realising she wasn’t interested in Derek so much as she was interested in a relationship, and that wasn’t fair for either of them. So she threw herself into her school work and fighting, not wanting to make things weird between them.  
  
    As Derek and Debbie made their way to a warehouse on foot, Derek began to explain how it usually worked. The bouts were held in different locations once a month around Chicago, usually abandoned warehouses or factories in the Southside. Since it was all very hush-hush, they wanted to avoid attention so you could only really find out about it from word of mouth.  
  
    They were stopped as soon as they entered, and an older man with bulging biceps and a long beard demanded they pay entry. Derek name-dropped and the man quickly made his way to the next person to enter. Derek explained that usually there was an entry fee of around three hundred to be split up to pay the fighters, but because Debbie was just watching to be involved later, it was free. He also made sure to mention that no one could leave the building until the fights were finished, which was around three hours or so later, depending on how many fights there were and how long they lasted.  
  
    Debbie had gaped at the probably two hundred people gathered in the building, shouting at each other to try and place their last minute bets. Debbie’s mouth almost watered at how much people were betting, and she wondered if many of these gamblers were actually Northsiders looking for a thrill with that much change rattling around their pockets.  
  
    Two girls stood at either side of the outside of a makeshift ring. Soon enough, they stepped into the ring and pretty much just started wailing on each other. People on all sides shouted at the girls, encouraging them to continue to beat the shit out of each other. Debbie couldn’t help but critique the girls’ techniques from what Derek had taught her. They were both scrappy and tough as hell, which made her rather nervous.  
  
    The fight was bare-knuckled, making Debbie wince slightly. She’d always fought an actual opponent bare-knuckled, but she only actually trained with boxing gloves. The thought of going bare-knuckled for any reason other than survival made her a little apprehensive, not that she’d admit that to anybody.  
  
    A few jabs were delivered by the girls at the beginning, until it just turned into full blows to anywhere they could reach. It seemed sickeningly reckless, but Debbie just watched on stoically, understanding the desperation that overtook you to beat the other person senseless. You would do anything just to make sure it was the other person that hit the ground, and not you. An uppercut to the jaw by the blonde girl sent the brunette sprawling to the ground. The brunette tried to scramble upright as fast as she could, thinking the blonde was backing off a little. However, before she could fully stand, the blonde sucker punched the brunette in the stomach, sending her to the ground again.  
  
    ‘How long do the fights go for?’ Debbie had asked nervously, a bit worried about whether this was literally to the death. She’d thought Derek had been exaggerating when he’d said that.  
  
    Derek seemed to notice her nerves and tried to soothe her, ‘You can admit defeat, and there’s nothing wrong with that. The worst that can happen is that people think you’re a pussy and don’t bet on you as much. Still, can’t be a fucking idiot who’s too goddamn proud to give in, that’s how you end up dead. And, here, you don’t get a bodybag.’  
  
    Debbie nodded a little, not moving her eyes from the fight as the blonde delivered a combination of a left jab, followed by a right cross, and then a left hook to the brunette. Debbie almost cried out in relief when the fucking idiot brunette threw her hand up in surrender. Surprisingly enough, the blonde then helped the brunette up and they shook hands, which were decorated with bruises and cuts on their knuckles. Derek told Debbie that it was less about respect and more like adding salt to the wound. _I beat your ass, and now I’m going to help you up, expose your weaknesses, and humiliate you more._  

    The blonde was announced to be in the next fight, which she also won. By that fight, the blonde had blood splattered across her face and chest, but she didn’t seem to even register it. The crazed look in her eye told Debbie she wasn’t really registering anything but what was happening in the fight. Once all the fights were over, Derek introduced Debbie to Tommy Salerno.  
  
    Tommy had scanned her up and down, making a gross comment that she would look good in the uniform — which was only really bike shorts and a sports bra. Debbie withheld her eye roll. When he asked if she thought she could keep up with his fighters, she’d pasted on her best confident smirk and replied that she could probably wipe the floor with them. Tommy’d chuckled, seeming to respect her assertive behaviour, before telling her that she was in and that Derek would let her know about when her next fight was.  


* * *

 

  
Debbie had lost her first fight. It was entirely not her fault, though. She had stepped into the ring confident and prepared, only to get distracted when she noticed Carl in the crowd. Derek had seemed to notice him before she did, since he was desperately trying to keep him calm. Debbie was so distracted and worried about how Carl would react that she was sucker punched in the stomach. The wind was knocked out of her, and she just wanted to sort things out with Carl so she gave in far too early. If he told anyone about this, he was so fucking dead.  
  
    Exiting the ring, she held her stomach as she made a beeline for her brother, who was now on the edges of the crowd with Derek. When she finally reached him, she shoved him in the chest, yelling, ‘What the fuck, Carl?’  
  
    ‘Right back to you, bitch!’ Carl exclaimed. ‘What the fuck are you doing here? _Fighting_?’  
  
    ‘What are you doing gambling, anyway?’ Debbie ran a hand through her red hair, huffing in annoyance. ‘It’s a three hundred entry fee, dumbass. We don’t have that kind of money for you to be throwing it around like that!’  
  
    ‘Actually, we do.’  
  
    Debbie huffed. ‘I don’t even want to know.’  
  
    ‘Shit, you guys, can you argue about this after the fights are over? You’re causing a scene even over the fighters in the cage. People are gonna be beating on you two soon enough.’ Derek tilted his head towards the crowd that was growing increasingly interested in their argument.  
  
    ‘Look, I don’t care what you or anyone else thinks, Carl. I’m doing this.’  
  
    Carl grinned. ‘I was actually gonna say that it’s pretty fucking badass.’  
  
    ‘Good.’ Debbie smiled. ‘Because if you tell anyone about this, I’ll stab you in your sleep.’  


* * *

 

  
Now she just finished her thirteenth bout and Derek finished tending to her hands so they could walk home. Knowing Lip was home, she opened the door quietly and tried to slip in unnoticed, but spun around to see Lip leaning against the kitchen counter. A candle flickered in the corner of the kitchen, lighting up his pissed expression. She sighed as she spotted three open, most likely warm, beers sitting in front of him, but went to head upstairs.  
  
    ‘Where’d you get that shiner?’ he called out.  
  
    Debbie sighed, already feeling the rush of nerves at the jig possibly being up as she headed back down to him. ‘I got mugged.’ She didn’t even bother putting in effort to make it believable. Somehow, she just knew he knew.  
  
    Lip gave her a challenging look, daring her to actually tell the truth.  
  
    Biting her lip before sighing and leaning on the opposite side of the counter, she asked, ‘So…who told you?’  
  
    ‘Davey told Iggy who told me that he saw you in a fucking fight at Salerno’s matches.’ He seemed to be seething now — nose flaring and fists clenched as his voice grew deeper. ‘What the fuck are you thinking, Debs? Tommy’s a fucking asshole who wouldn’t think twice to have you killed when you’re not useful anymore.’  
  
    ‘I’m lucky to be in such exclusive matches, actually.’ Debbie lifted her chin, a habit she knew she got from Ian and she also knew how much it pissed Lip off. She almost grinned sadistically at his expression. ‘It’s a miracle Tommy even took me on board.’  
  
    ‘Of course Tommy took you on board, he’s exploiting you! There’s no fucking way anyone good would take on someone who doesn’t even know how to fight.’  
  
    ‘I know how to fight!’ Debbie protested.  
  
    ‘No. You know how to just barely protect yourself in the fucking slums. You don’t know _shit_ about real fighting, so stop with the know-it-all attitude, or you’re gonna get yourself killed.’  
  
    ‘Oh, that’s rich, coming from you!’ Debbie sneered back, slamming her hands down on the counter. ‘You think you know better than _all_ of us, but what are you doing? Oh, that’s right, you’re fucking up your future! I’m doing this because I _have_ to, Lip! Fiona’s pretty much gone off with Sean and forgotten about us, Ian’s staying at Caleb’s all the time, and you’re constantly getting tanked at every opportunity. It’s up to Carl and me to take care of things, but — surprise, surprise — Carl’s getting himself in trouble in the process. I’m the one picking up everyone’s slack here.’  
  
    ‘I’m sure,’ Lip scoffed, crossing his arms. ‘If you were taking care of everything, I think we’d notice!’  
  
    ‘How would you notice anything being drunk all the time?’  
  
    Lip’s jaw clenched and he didn’t respond to the dig, instead posing his own question, ‘How did you even get into this shit anyway?’  
  
    ‘Mandy taught me how to defend myself and—’  
  
    Lip snorted. ‘Oh, so you’re getting fighting tips from a fucking Milkovich? They don’t know shit about fighting fairly.’  
  
    ‘We don’t fight fairly at Tommy’s, asshole, and, besides, have you met their fucking dad? Of course they had to fight dirty! Besides, I learnt boxing from Derek — he knows the techniques.’  
  
    ‘So you’re doing this to impress a guy?’  
  
    Debbie cried out in outrage, ‘No! Fuck no! This is not about a boy— God, it’s like you’re not even listening to me. It’s about you; it’s about all of you — Fiona, you, Ian! None of you stepped up to the plate these last few years when you all promised to take care of us.’  
  
    ‘You’re almost an adult, Debs; it’s not our job! Besides, we all grew up having to chip in and pull our weight.’  
  
    ‘Fuck you, Lip, that’s what I’m doing by doing this. If you didn’t notice, the electric was cut off two days ago and now—’  She pulls out the roll of her winnings from tonight, wincing at the aching in her hands ‘—I have the money to put it back on.’ She placed the roll on the counter. ‘You’re welcome.’  
  
    Lip was rendered speechless staring at the wad of cash as Debbie started around him, figuring she made her point. If he thought that her doing this was just her being rebellious, he needed a huge fucking reality check and she was more than happy to give it to him. And Fiona and Ian later on if need be. She was taking care of things, just like Fiona had, so what if it was through different means? It’s times like these she missed Mandy — she would’ve gotten it.  
  
    She stopped, one foot on the stairs, hesitating as she felt the shower calling for her to get in there as soon as possible. Almost groaning, she forced her aching body to double-back and grab the money, tucking it into her pants.  
  
    Spinning back around, she headed to the stairs again and called out over her shoulder, ‘On second thought, better take this with me. Wouldn’t want you to take it to blow it on booze like fucking Frank.’

**Author's Note:**

> Hands up if you like reading things that don't revolve around ixm!! 
> 
> (Also it was weird to write something where there's no romance, but it was also fun!!)


End file.
